


Romancing Teyla

by sjhw_tolerance (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/sjhw_tolerance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old West John and Teyla escape from the bad guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romancing Teyla

**Author's Note:**

> Fic written for AlliSnow, inspired by a picture of John & Teyla in the Old West.
> 
> Much to my shame, I must confess my first thought on viewing it (besides how absolutely exquisite it is) was the opening scene from Romancing the Stone. ::sigh:: Yes…with deepest apologies to Diane Thomas (and use of some of her dialog), I indulged in romance novel John & Teyla ala Angelina & Jessie.
> 
> The only other warning I can think of is for excessively purple prose!
> 
> Originally posted July 2008

Romancing Teyla

“What's it gonna be, Teyla?”

It was Koyla—the filthiest, dirtiest, dumbest excuse for a man anywhere in the Pegasus Galaxy.

“You can die two ways, angel. Quick, like the tongue of a snake, or slower than the molasses in January.”

I stared at him…it was October...but not that it mattered, I’d kill him no matter the season.

“Where is it?” he demanded with a sneer.

Evidently I wasn’t to die until he had what he wanted. I was trapped…cornered. Seeing no other option—and hoping to stall for more time—I slowly pulled the deed out of my hip pocket. He grabbed for it like a greedy child, his spittle dripping in a disgusting trail out of the corner of his mouth.

“Get over there.”

He pointed to a corner of the shack where a rickety bed rested, the mattress lumpy and soiled, his intent obvious in the unsavory gleam in his eye and the revolting bulge in his britches.

“Get out,” I said firmly, glad my voice didn’t quiver. “You’ve got what you came for.”

“Not quite, angel.” His hand hovered over his crotch, his grimy fingers tugging at the rope belt holding up his filthy jeans.

I lowered my eyes shyly and slowly raised my left hand, tugging at the laces holding my blouse together. If I could keep him distracted long enough….

“Take it off. Do it.”

I pulled the laces free and my blouse drooped suggestively off one shoulder, revealing the lush swell of my breasts. I could feel his eyes burning into me, the lust and perverted pleasure he took in my submission providing me the opportunity I needed.

“Come on.”

Koyla had both hands occupied now, one stuffed down the front of his britches massaging his cock while he fumbled one-handed with the rope belt. Sensing I’d never have a better opportunity, I let my hands drift over my breasts…my belly…watching as his lust-filled eyes followed. When I reached my thighs, I moved with lightning fast speed and pulled out the Bowie knife I had sheathed in my boot.

The surprised look on Koyla’s face when I drove the big knife through his soft belly and up into his chest, piercing his heart, was a beautiful sight. Using all my strength, I leaned into him, twisting the knife deep, almost puking at the smell of his fetid breath in my face when he gurgled and breathed his last. With one last twist and shove of the knife, he dropped to the ground, blood trailing out of his mouth, his eyes staring blankly at the tin roof of the shack.

That was the end of Koyla, the man who killed my father, burned our ranch, shot my dog and stole my dreams for the future. Pulling the knife out of his dead body, I wiped the blood and guts off on his pants leg and slipped the knife back into its sheath. I’d already wasted too much precious time taking care of Koyla and I needed to put plenty of daylight between me and this shack. Running from the grim scene, I vaulted onto my waiting palomino, Jessie, who sensed my urgency and took off at a dead run.

But I knew it was too late when I heard the sound of hoof beats behind me. If there was one law of the Pegasus Galaxy, it was that bastards had brothers who seemed to ride forever. Cowen and Ladon Radim were hot on my heels, rapidly gaining on me. I urged Jessie on, lashing the reins against his neck, But suddenly there he was, my beloved John. He was the one man I trusted, the only man. My heart leapt as I watched him gallop up to my side.

Pulling back on the reins, his appaloosa mare whinnied and reared back. John reached for his Winchester repeating rifle and with amazing precision, expertly fired the rifle. Cowen went first, blood blooming in the middle of his chest as he tumbled backwards off his horse; Ladon Radim had enough time to draw his gun, but he never got a shot off, the report from John’s rifle cracking through the hair and Ladon fell off his horse, lying dead in the dust.

John…my eyes roved hungrily over his lean body. He was strong and fit, his muscled thighs controlling his horse with ease, his strong hands gripping the reins lightly. His black hair was tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed—or like a lover had just run her fingers through it. I could barely wait to feel the warmth of his touch, but our reunion would have to wait, the middle of nowhere was neither the time nor place for what I could see in his dark eyes.

“There’s a box canyon not too far from here,” he said. “We’ll be safe there.” Sliding the Winchester back into its sheath, the appaloosa dancing eagerly beneath him, John’s lips curved in a sensual smile that made my heart beat faster; I could barely wait to be alone with him, feel the warmth of his touch. I smiled and nodded in return, resisting the urge to fling myself into his arms and instead settling Jessie into an easy cantor next to him.

We rode through the desert, the shadows lengthening as the sun sank low on the horizon, but I didn’t mind how long or far we rode, because I was back with my true love. We rode deeper into the canyons and badlands, the rock walls closing in around us. When it seemed we couldn’t go any farther, John reined his mare back and lithely swung down off the horse.

“Whoa,” I said softly to Jessie. Before I could dismount, John was there, his strong hands grasping my waist and swinging me down off the saddle. My entire body tingled where it brushed against his, John’s low chuckle sending a thrill racing through me. Disappointment washed through me when he quickly released me.

I looked around curiously. This particular canyon didn’t look very special and we would be well and truly trapped if anyone followed us in. “Where—”

“Follow me.” He flashed me a wicked grin and grabbed his horse’s reins, disappearing behind a scrubby stand of mesquite growing flush with the canyon wall.

Taking Jessie’s reins in hand I cautiously approached the scraggly trees, amazed to see a narrow opening in the canyon wall, completely concealed by the mesquite and thick brush. Jessie obediently followed me through the fissure in the rock wall, I could just see the speckled rump of John’s horse in front of me, my eyes swiftly adjusting to the dimmer light. The canyon walls closed in on me and I lost sight of John, the rock scraping against the sides of my saddle. Just when it seemed like I couldn’t go any farther, the path took an abrupt turn and I was suddenly in John’s box canyon.

He was already unsaddling his mare and I dropped Jessie’s reins, knowing he would follow me. I looked around in amazement. The canyon was the perfect hideaway. We were protected on all four sides by the sheer rock face of the canyon walls; most of the canyon was in the shadows, but there was still enough light filtering in from the sky above for me to see the small camp John had set up at the far end of the canyon. There was water somewhere close by, I could hear it and the unexpected lushness of the grasses and trees sheltered by the canyon confirmed it.

I followed John’s lead and unsaddled Jessie, letting him loose to roam free in the shelter of the canyon. He made a beeline towards John’s mare, following her to what was no doubt the spring sheltered within this unexpected oasis. John was already busy gathering wood and I carried my simple bedroll and saddlebags with the few supplies I carried over to the campsite. His camp was simple, but adequate, and I set my belongings down next to his.

Squatting down next to the fire pit, I pulled my saddlebag closer and retrieved my flint and steel. What little sunlight creeping into the canyon floor would be gone soon and we’d need the light—and the warmth—from the fire. The dry tinder caught after only a few sparks and I carefully nursed the small flame to life. When John returned with more wood, adding it to the pile close by, I got to my feet and brushed my hair out of my eyes, suddenly self-conscious of my grubby and trail-worn appearance.

“I’ll go get some water,” I muttered, grabbing for the battered tin coffee pot sitting at the edge of the fire pit. I blushed furiously when John’s low chuckle followed me through the twilight. The horses had moved off and were grazing in the thick grass growing in the run-off from the spring and I knelt down, splashing the cool water on my over-heated face. It felt good and I pulled my bandana out of my pocket, dipping it into the water and using it to wash my face and neck. I sighed and looked longingly at the small pool of water, wishing it was large enough for a proper bath. But since it wasn’t it, I decided practically, wringing out my bandanna, this would have to do.

Filling the coffee pot with water, I made my way back to the camp, where John had already laid out our simple meal of jerky, hardtack and cheese. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the coffee pot and dumping a handful of coffee into the water before setting it into the small bed of coals at one side of the fire. I sat down cross-legged next to him; I was hungrier than I realized, eagerly eating my share of our evening meal.

John didn’t waste any words either, both of us eating in silence. When I heard the coffee boiling, I wordlessly handed him my tin cup. The coffee was hot and bitter, just the way I liked it and I slowly sipped it, enjoying the warmth spreading up from my belly. Relaxing for perhaps the first time all day, I stared at the dancing flames, vividly aware of the man beside me—and our bedrolls spread out together at the edge of the fire’s glow.

In spite of the blood on my hands and the death that had happened today because of me, I felt oddly at peace. With Koyla’s death, my family could finally rest in peace…I could settle down, have a real life. I slanted my eyes towards the man sitting next to me. Maybe have a life with him. John stood up, dumping the last bits of the coffee out and adding more wood to the fire. I drank the last of my coffee and slowly stood; John moved around the periphery of the camp now, checking on the horses and I decided to take my destiny into my own hands.

The grass made a soft cushion beneath our bedrolls and I sat down, slipping off my boots and carefully placing my knife where I could reach it easily—if needed. I waited for John, who didn’t seem surprised to find me already on the bedroll, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

“John.” I held out my hand to him and he swiftly closed the space between us, kneeling down on the bedroll in front of me. Raising my free hand to his face, I caressed his face, the soft stubble along his jaw tickling my fingers.

“Teyla,” he murmured. Releasing my hand, he clasped my face between his hands. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his and I leaned into him. His head lowered to mine and my lids fluttered shut at the passion evident in his dark eyes. At the moment his lips met mine, I knew that we would never again be apart.

His lips were almost gentle as they molded to mine; an unexpected contrast to the leashed power I could feel in his arms as they closed around me. He teased me with brief, tender brushes of his lips until I couldn’t take it any longer and deepened the kiss myself, demanding more from him. And it seemed he was happy to oblige, his mouth opening, allowing our tongues to dance in an erotic prelude to the ultimate waltz. I felt dizzy; clinging tighter to John when the sky whirled above me, unsure if it was the heady taste of John on my lips or something wrong with me. But then I felt the hard ground cushioned by the blankets from our bedrolls beneath my back and realized that John had merely lowered me to our bed.

The stars twinkled brightly above our haven in the box canyon, the almost full moon rising over the rim adding its heavenly glow to the flickering firelight. My lovers hands were gentle, yet determined, as they moved over my body, his nimble fingers rapidly working the laces on my blouse, baring my breasts to his hot and hungry eyes. I felt a momentary flash of shame when I remembered how Koyla had forced me to undress for him, but the perverted lust that had been in Koyla’s bloodshot eyes was nothing like the love-filled desire I saw in John’s hazel orbs.

I cradled John’s head with my hands, my fingers threading through his short hair, when he lowered his head, his hot mouth pressing kisses in an excruciatingly slow trail along my collarbone before he finally reached my breast. I gasped in pure pleasure when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his teeth nibbling gently on the tender bud and sending shards of pure desire splintering through me. I raked my nails lightly through the short hairs at his nape, becoming hopelessly entangled in my half-on, half-off blouse in my efforts to tug his shirt off, eager to touch and caress him in return.

John growled low in his throat, the vibration rumbling through his mouth and into my breast, sending more shivers through me. I moaned when he released my breast with a not-quite painful bite and reared up above me, flinging his shirt off in one easy movement, his muscles flexing in the moonlight. I quickly twisted out of my blouse, tossing it aside; my eager fingers meeting his at the fastening of my britches.

“Easy,” he murmured, brushing my hands aside and easily slipping the buttons free, his agile fingers brushing fleetingly against my mound, my hips moving of their own while towards his touch. John knelt over me and tugged my britches off, leaving me naked before him in the moonlight. The cool night air washed over me, tightening my already hard nipples and soothing my over-heated skin. I could feel his hot gaze scorching me, traveling from my breasts, to my belly and beyond, to my soft women’s flesh and I gloried in the desire I could see in their depths.

I watched and waited while he rose slowly over me and shed his boots and jeans. My eyes widened in wonder and pleasure at my first glimpse of his manhood, rising proud and erect from the nest of dark curly hair at his groin. I could feel the moisture pooling between my legs in response to his obvious desire and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer to fully belong to him.

“John,” I whispered. My lips curved in a slow smile and I held out both my arms to my lover.  
With a ragged groan, he covered me with his hard, lean body; my softer flesh conforming easily to his. His mouth was hard and demanding on mine, his hands sweeping over me in sure and deliberate caresses, stroking and touching me with an easy confidence. I reveled in the feel of him against me and my own freedom in finally being able to give into my deepest desires to touch and caress him. His shoulders were strong and broad; his hips narrow and lean nestled against mine; the hot and throbbing length of his rigid manhood pressed firmly against my weeping folds. I writhed slowly beneath him, desire pooling hotly between my legs with each kiss and caress lavished upon me by my lover.

“John,” I gasped, clutching at his firm ass, trying to urge him to completing our union, almost weeping with frustration and longing. I ached with desire and the only thing that could assuage that ache was the ultimate consummation of our love. John rose over me, braced on his elbows and I shifted my hips eagerly, luring him to the destination we both desired.

With unexpected tenderness and care, I felt him broach my untried flesh, pressing his rigid length inexorably through my soft folds until he was seated firmly within my tender, pulsating depths. If there was any discomfort, it was lost in the love I saw in John’s hazel eyes as he pressed his way home. I may have been a novice to the ways of a man and woman, but I needn’t have worried, my body instinctively knew how to move, my hips already moving in counterpoint to the lazy thrusts from John.

I had heard hushed talk of the pain a woman was subjected to while in a man’s intimate embrace, but along with the warnings there had also been whispered words of a pleasure so exquisite that a woman would suffer her man’s touch for those few brief, shining moments. If John was the exception, I was happy, for I felt no pain or disgust at his possession, the dark swirl of desire pooling low in my belly now focused almost entirely where we were joined.

He touched me in unexpected ways, seemingly more familiar with my body than I was and I felt a brief rush of jealously at thought of other women he had held. But somehow I knew whatever had happened in the past would be of no consequence to our future. The dogged determination and loyalty he had shown me, even when I spurned his help, had proven his devotion—to me and me alone. And I also knew that after tonight, in the sharing of our love, while other women might desire him, he had given his heart and soul to me.

John’s nimble fingers started stroking me in my most secret of places and I trembled helplessly beneath his touch, my legs encircling his hips and holding him tight. I gasped his name when the stars above me suddenly exploded into a freefall of starlight that caught me up in the splendor, wave after wave of ecstasy bursting through me until I was crying his name with each shuddering breath I took. John’s hot gaze burned into me, his hands and body keeping up the intense rhythm until I thought I would die from the pleasure.

Rapture continued to race through me in unrelenting waves until I sensed John’s surrender to the love and desire that bound us tighter than any ropes ever could, his hips pumping faster and deeper into my unresisting body until he cried out my name. “Teyla!”

My trembling arms held him close when he ground his hips against me and I felt him fill me with his seed. I knew now why women both feared and eagerly embraced the ultimate union with a man. With the wrong man, I knew the surrender of my body would have brought only pain and sorrow, but with the right man…with John, we shared in a communion so pure and righteous, nothing could ever separate us. When he finally collapsed against me and I held him to my breast, I gazed up at the stars and thanked the heavens that in this man, I had found my one true love and soul mate. I knew that we would spend the rest of our lives together…forever.

The End


End file.
